Merkan-English Dictionary - BOSSY Special

To commemorate that madwoman's BOSSY's Excellent Road Trip, herewith and heretofore please allow Mr Farty to present a little something to help travellers in their time of need.

Saturn

Now the astronomers amongst you might be forgiven for believing that Saturn is a planet, but that's just a matter of opinion.
The Merkan view has it that the Saturn looks more like this:

Well, "planet" does mean "wanderer", and BOSSY's itinerararary certainly involves a lot of wandering.

Diaper

If I was planning to spend 25 hours a day driving, I'd be wearing one of these too. After all, you never know how far it's going to be to the next rest stop.

In case you were wondering, 16-28 lbs doesn't mean capacity.

Edamame

Edamame are green soy beans harvested at 80 percent maturity, high in protein and fibre and low in calories. Apparently you don't eat the husks, just the beans. Who knew?
Not to be confused with Edam, which is high in yummy and low in lead. I know which I'd prefer to snack on to keep me going.

John Cusack

John Cusack is fiercely protective of his private life, but that won't stop Mrs Cusack from tracking him down eventually. Map? Check. Chloroform? Check. Escape route? Check. List of bloggy friends with basements ready and alibis prepared? Check.

Jail

Or gaol in Early Modern English, this is a place best avoided. See above.

Thongs

Slightly less comfortable than flats when driving, but at least you don't have to worry about toe cleavage.

Driving on the left

All sensible countries, including Great Britain, Guyana, South Africa, India, Japan, Australia and New Zealand to name but a few (there are 74 in total), drive on the left. The other handful choose to drive on the right, i.e. wrong side of the road.
According to the British Ministry of Transport, “In the interests of safety, you are advised to practise [driving on the left] in your country of origin for a week or two before driving in the UK.”

I can't wait. BOSSY's route does include Scottsdale Scotchland in the UK, after all.

Drive safely, BOSSY!

Half and Half

The UK government is shortly to vote on the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Bill. This would, if passed, allow scientists to create half-human, half-animal cybrids.

How cool would that be? We could cross humans with fish (fishes?) to create people who could breathe underwater through gills, feed off krill and plankton and release some of the population pressure on the land surface of the planet. No more worries about global warming inundating the cities - just live under the sea!


Or we could cross humans with horses to create people that could eat and digest grass. Cut out all the time and effort of beef production. Forget about raising and killing cows for food. That would keep even the vegans happy!


Or if you just love the taste of steak, at least you could give the creature a fighting chance. I'm astonished nobody has thought of this before!



Or if it's just sport you're after, why not have a human-lion hybrid that's just as interested in hunting you down for lunch?


There's also human-goat hybrids (I'm starting to wonder how people got these ideas in the first place).


The possibilities are endless. We could probly even cross a sleazebag with a rug to create a slug. No, wait. That's been done.


Whatever next? I suppose we could even cross humans with trees...

Educashun News

If the papers are to believed - and everybody knows the meeja never tell lies, one in three (British) kids thinks Churchill was the first man on the Moon, while two thirds don't know how many planets are in the Solar system.

Duh! Everybody knows Churchill's not a man!



And on the latter point, neither do many reporters (see the correction in the Metro article above), or indeed some scientists. It all depends who you ask, and when. Historically, there were five - Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. Earth, being flat, obviously wasn't a planet. Then they kind of growed. Two years ago, there were twelve planets - counting Pluto, Ceres, Charon, and Xena.

Hmmm...had to do a bit of digging to find a decent picture of that heavenly body. You might want to click to enlarge.



Quick quiz -

What do you put in a toaster?
If a red house is made of red bricks, and a blue house is made of blue bricks, what is a green house made of?
What do cows drink?
What's orange and sounds like a parrot?
What's brown and sticky?

Did you get them all right first time?

Black Monitor

In Loving Memory
Arthur Charles Clarke
16 December 1917 - 18 March 2008

Merkan-English Dictionary #9

Yet another effort to reduce the confusion that afflicts Pond-crossers. I'll learn youse guys proper English if it kills me.

• Candyfloss / Cotton Candy

Candyfloss is a sweet, sticky confection that goes all over your face and makes a mess when you eat it. Whereas cotton candy is what your kids have at the fair. FSM, you have got such a filthy mind!


• Full Stop / Period

A full stop is that bit what prevents your sentences from flowing on forever. A period, on the other hand, involves quite a lot of flowing. Unless you have some torpedoes or logs to hand.


• Nappy / Diaper

The word "nappy" is of course derived from "napkin", which is a piece of absorbent cloth what you wear around your neck when you're eating posh nosh¹. I wouldn't recommend wearing a nappy as a bib, at least not a used one, unless you want to lose weight in a hurry.

A diaper is described in Wikipedia as "an absorbent garment worn by individuals who are incapable of controlling their bladder or bowel movements, or are unable or unwilling to use a toilet." Like that mental astronaut.


• Films / Movies

Films, or pictures, or flicks if you're really old, are the moving pictures you see at the cinema, viz.:
"Mum, I want to see the pictures."
"There's pictures on the wall."
"But I want to see moving pictures."
"Well move them."

Merkan movies are generally about a gazillion times better than British pictures - except in terms of historical accuracy: see Titanic, U-571 and Apollo 13.


• Kerb / Curb

I think define.com says it all:

kerb

noun: an edge between a sidewalk and a roadway consisting of a line of curbstones.

In other words, I have no fricking idea why we spell it funny in the UK. We even pronounce it exactly the same as Merkans do.

I'm getting tyred of this now.


• St. Patrick's Day / St. Patty's Day

On St. Patty's Day, Merkans like to celebrate by eating corned beef and cabbage. And parading around Noo Yawk.

Mr Farty's friend N, from Oirland, hates the expression "St. Patty's Day" and isn't that keen on corned beef. Her views on cabbage are, at this time, a mystery.

You're welcome.

¹ Not to be confused with what Victoria Beckham gave David as a birthday present.

Farty Blowing Off Smoke

Or "What Happens On t'Internet Stays On t'Internet".

Humour me for a moment. This is purely hypothetical, but let's say I were to post something on t'Internet - maybe on Bobo, or Facepoke, or perhaps even right here on Blogwhore. And then I decided, perhaps because of unfavourable feedback, to delete those last three posts. Not that I ever would, you understand, what with it being my blog, my rules, but if I did. That would be them gone for good, right?

Obviously there would still be my own copy on the pooter where I composed them, and the backup copy stored on the Google server out in California or wherever. And any copies that you, my reader, might have downloaded between me posting and deleting them. Oh, and anything that you might have written in your own blog about it, or emailed to your friends, family and passing acquaintances. And the RSS feed and that. But apart from that?

Thank fuck for that. For a minute there I was worried that something might have slipped out.

On a completely unrelated topic, I'm worried that Mrs Farty has been seeing a minor celebrity behind my back. I'm sure it's nothing, just a platonic friendship that I'm blowing out of all proportion. And the photos are probly fakes. But...well, decide for yourself.

Happy Anniversary, Baby

Yep, 26 years married to Mrs Farty. Most of them happily, yay! We got to see lots of her relatives, too, but that was largely circumstantial.

Old Uncle Charlie passed away last week, and the funeral was held today down south Up North, in the borders. One of the advantages of having a new bungee manager every few months is that you can bury six grandfathers in five years and nobody bats an eyelid, so I had no trouble getting time off.

We caught the train down last night, even though it meant that I went through blog withdrawl and slept only fitfully, waking abruptly from a nightmare about the Internet being switched off. Brrr!

Anyway, woke up this morning to the sound of sizzling bacon, had some porridge and honey, then T and I went for a walk while the ladies got on with the important business of yakking.

It was largely overcast, with a strong wind blowing off the Cheviot Hills, but nothing unusual there. The fresh air cleared my head while T and I chatted about how, even out here in the country, technology is gradually encroaching, what with GPS-guided tractors and that. T recalled the first time he visited the Big City (Morpeth, I think) when he had seen traffic being stopped and started by magical beams of coloured light¹.

When we got back, some more relatives had arrived to pay their condolences, then in the afternoon we made our way to Chatton for the service. This was my first Catholic funeral, and I can see now why there is such friction between the Protestants and the Catholics - they missed at least a dozen words off the end of the Lord's Prayer!!! Heathens. And the incense made my eyes water. There was a bit of levity - when the minister priest was putting up the numbers of the hymns on the board, Uncle B shouted "House!" If looks could kill...

A familiar dirty laugh from behind made me turn around - yup, Favourite Niece had sneaked in late with Aunty B. That pair will be late for their own funerals, with any luck.

Charlie must have been a good Catholic, what with him being Italian I suppose, since the priest not only knew his proper name but his entire history from his youthful first trip to Northumberland during the War (just a flying visit) to his return after falling in love with the place and his eventual settling down to raise a family. (No, neither of his children had provided him with these details. We checked.)

A brief stop at the cemetery for the burial, then into the local eatery for a very nice hot buffet. We would have stayed longer, but we had a train to catch - or so we thought. When we arrived at the station, we found that British Rail (or whatever the fuck it's called these days) had imposed a 50mph speed limit due to the wrong type of wind and all trains were delayed by up to 2 hours. As luck would have it, the train which we would have missed if it had been on time was also late, so we caught that one and were only an hour late home.

¹ Ok, I stole that from Lillian Beckwith.